Ace Combat: The Belkan Knights
by Goredon The Destroyer
Summary: In a time of geopolitical strife, three Belkan pilots must do what they can to push back an unexpected threat. Follow Keenan Lotheric and Knight Squadron in... ACE COMBAT: THE BELKAN KNIGHTS! Cover picture provided by BillyTheKid via the Ace Combat subreddit
1. Chapter 1: Aces and Acrobatics

_"When I was young, there was peace. We weren't always at war, fighting over who has the biggest weapon or the largest army, we were... Peaceful. Then, a great fireball made its way to Earth. We built cannons and lasers to destroy it, but it was no use. The fireball split into many, impacting our humble planet and scarring it for the rest of time. We went to war because of it, scarring Mother Earth even further..." - 1st Lieutenant Kei Nagase, 2027_

* * *

 _Act One: Rise_

 _Chapter 1: Aces and Acrobatics  
_

* * *

On a warm Summer day, it wasn't uncommon for air shows to take place, showcasing warbirds from the past and present, even prototypes for the future. At one such show, I found myself struck in pure awe at a sight before me - a replica of the Su-37 Terminator used by Erusian ace Yellow 13. Granted, I knew nothing of who or what Yellow 13 stood for, as I was merely a child. In the years that followed, I slowly came to realize just what Yellow 13 meant, and what his cause was. I always thought it was strange that they never taught that in school... Growing up, life was simple. We would turn on the television every once in a while to hear about the wars. War was a show we would watch, but we didn't think anything of it. Hearing about the ace pilots inspired me with hope... That is until Ulysses made planet fall...

Aurelia, the country I had lived in for most of my life, was devastated. The leaders saw fit to blame a lack of UN response as the sole cause for the casualties following Ulysses. The truth is, it was a lot more complicated then that. Our leaders at the time thought they didn't need help, and misled us into thinking that the UN would interfere with our day to day lives, that there would be mandatory blackouts, curfews and that anyone who spoke of the UN, positive or negative, would be executed on sight. And what did we do? We believed them. Even with our brightest minds in talks with the UN, our "dear leader" shunned them, and shunned any outside assistance. It never came to my mind just how foolish one could be until then...

"Keenan, you're going to be late for school..." My mother spoke. Her voice was calm and soothing, but soft and sad. She had been widowed ever since the Usean Continental War, when my father had joined the ISAF for what was called Operation Judgment Day. He was killed by an Erusean bullet, or so I've been told. On my way home from soccer practice one day, I heard what sounded like the screams of ghosts. Looking up, I saw a gigantic plane, bigger than a football field. It was black as night, with gargantuan wings. I would later learn that was the _Gleipnir_ , a leasathian superweapon with capabilities beyond my comprehension. Two Aurelian F-16's engaged, only to be vaporized by the winged beast. Three days later, Leasath declared open war against Aurelia. That would be the last I ever saw of my home country.

My mother took it into her own hands, having seen fit to keep her little boys safe. We fled the Leasath onslaught first to the Osean Federation, and from there to Belka. It was strange, growing up in this new land. It was far colder than Aurelia ever was, but that did not matter. All that mattered was we were safe. Or so we thought... On my brother's 18th birthday, he was fatally stabbed by a Belkan Ultra-nationalist, just because he wasn't a Belkan native. At his funeral, I did my best to not cry. Every day since, I've visited his grave and left behind a single flower. The day I turned 20, I told my mother I would be joining the Belkan Air Force. "But Keenan..." She said to me, tears forming in her eyes. "That is how good men die young..."

"Mom, I know how scared you are. I'm scared too, but I promise... I won't get hurt. I'll be back before you know it." I told her, wiping the tears from her cheek. This seemed to calm my mother a bit, but I could see she was still frightened. The next day, I would depart for Valais Air Base, one of the homes of the prestigious Belkan Air Force. The ride there was uneventful, but seeing the many fighter planes performing their waltzes and circles was mind-blowing. As a child, I never thought I would be able to be a part of something so... Amazing. While on the bus to the air base, the person sitting next to me, a fair skinned man named Luther, told me that our flight instructor was a pilot who had served in the Belkan War of 1995. At first, I did not believe him, but any doubt would be erased when we arrived.

The classroom was small, barely able to fit 40 souls. In the front right corner there was a desk, with a computer monitor and keyboard on it. On the wall directly in front of the class was a chalkboard, with various diagrams of many maneuvers scrawled in white chalk. Standing in front of the chalkboard was an older gentleman, I estimated of around 60. "Good morning, Students. I am your flight instructor, Larry Foulke. As of right now, all of you are Nugget`s, untapped potential." He said. His voice was strong, which I should have expected from a former soldier. "Mr. Foulke, sir?" One of my classmates asked, raising his hand. "When do we get to kick some Osean ass?" The classroom erupted in laughter, but I remained silent, respecting my instructor.

"You, young man. Stand up." Foulke said, his gaze trained on me. My fellow classmates let out an increasingly loud "Ooooooooh", as though I were in trouble. "Yes sir?" I replied, respectfully saluting the older veteran. "Would you mind telling the classroom your name? You're the only one so far who's given me any respect." After hesitating for a split second, I finally spoke. "Keenan Lotheric, Sir." I sputtered out, earning snickers from my fellow classmates. "Keenan... Not the most leading name, but I'm sure you'll do fine here. What made you want to join the air force?" In my heart, I knew what the reason was; Revenge. But, I wanted to sound like a stable person, so I lied. "National pride, Sir."

* * *

 _Who are we to question the Rules of War? Those rules exist because of conflicts, past and present, that sought to tear the world asunder. They sought to tear our future apart with senseless bloodshed and fruitless, needless destruction._ _~ Jackson Bartlett, 2017_

* * *

[Valais Air Base]  
[East Ustio]  
[0550 hours]  
[3/15/2024]  
[Alt: 0-10000ft]

After my basic flight training had been completed, I had been assigned as the forth wing in Knight Squadron, Valais Air Base's very own "ace" squadron. When I joined, the squadron was one of four pilots - myself, our flight lead Eugene Weaver, his wingman Carlos Ortega, and a woman named Elise. The four of us got along well, but we were inexperienced. Our aircraft were older MiG's from the Second Usean Continental War, except for Elise. She flew an F-4E Phantom that was in pristine condition. It was clear she was the most experienced among us - why else would she be given an aircraft in better condition than the rest of us? When it came to personalizing our craft, we each had distinct nose art. Eugene had spray painted a bloodied fist to his craft, while Carlos had gone with an SBD Dauntless - an old dive bomber, mid-dive. "Hey Keenan. What's up?" Eugene asked me, as I worked on my nose art. "Nothing much, just finishing up my art." I told him, stepping aside so he could see.

"Aurelia's Coat of Arms?" He asked, looking at me quizzically. "Yes. Aurelia is my home country, so I thought I should show my patriotism towards my home." I explained, hoping he didn't think less of me. "So... You're a migrant?" I nodded, looking back to my plane. "After the War broke out, my mother fled with me and my brother. When the Osean Federation rejected us, citing my father's service with the ISAF as a Peacekeeper, we moved on to Belka." Eugene seemed to share a similar sentiment, nodding as he ran a tanned hand along the side of my silver MiG. "ISAF... ISAF... I worked with them for a little while, cleaning up San Dorado after the Siege. I didn't think it was possible for there to be so many soldiers in that one small city." Those words resonated with me, having been through Hell myself. "At least we see eye to eye, right?" Eugene gave a small smirk, before his face twisted into a scowl. "Hey, Blockhead! I don't touch your shit, so don't touch mine!"

The "Blockhead" turned out to be a Fallschirmjäger, the Belkan equivalent to a paratrooper. "Relax, Hot Shot, I wasn't gonna break it!" He shouted to Eugene. Seeing as how I was new to the squadron, and by extension the base, I chose to stay out of their feud. Looking back to my MiG, I sighed and returned to painting. After finally finishing the nose art, I stepped back and admired my work. I had always wanted to be a painter, making grand masterpieces, not flying a fighter jet. That being said, I never thought I would become a part of the prestigious Belkan Air Force so quickly. Then, air raid sirens broke the silence of the hangar, and the PA crackled to life.

"All planes, scramble! Scramble! Scramble! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill! Bombers have been sighted on radar on vector 101! Repeat: Bombers are attacking the base!"

With my heart racing, I climbed into the cockpit of my aircraft, as did the rest of my squadron. Over the radio, our ATC (Air Traffic Control) relayed our instructions. "Knight Squadron, proceed to Runway 2A and await clearance for takeoff. Once you are airborne, further orders will be relayed by AWACS Spirit Eye." Our planes, because of the urgent scramble, were in an odd order - Knight 3 was ahead of me, while Knight 1 was immediately behind me, with Knight 2 being the last aircraft. As Knight 3 began to taxi, I looked around and watched the AAA tracers and Surface-To-Air missiles streak into the sky. With that, the words "Knight 3, cleared for takeoff." Crackled onto my headset, and Knight 3 began her takeoff procedures. 100 meters. 200 meters. 300 meters. Then, an explosion. Her aircraft had been struck by a bomb, with the mangled, burning wreckage scraping along the runway. Knight 3 was unable to eject.

"Holy shit! Knight 3's been hit! ATC, this is Knight 4! Knight 3 was hit by... _Something,_ and is sitting on the runway! I don't have room for takeoff. Requesting permission to take off from Runway 1B!" "Negative, Knight 4. Runway 1B was just strafed by Osean attackers. You'll have to make due with what you got." Hearing those words, my heart sank. Regardless, I applied full thrust, and began my run down the runway. Pulling back on the stick, I closed my eyes, waiting to hear to the crunch of metal, and feel the heat of fire. Miraculously... I didn't. "ATC, this is Knight 1. Knight 4 has cleared the downed bird. I repeat, Knight 4 is airborne." My flight lead said, over his radio. I could feel my heart racing. As I gained altitude to match that of the attacking aircraft, I awaited my next orders.


	2. Chapter 2: Aces High

_"As a people, Erusians must not be afraid to push back any invading threat! Even if it is not of this God-given Earth, rest assured Erusea will do her best to quell any threats! The Stonehenge will be our solution to this interstellar situation_! _"_ _~ King Jeremiah XI of Erusea, 1998 G7 Summit_

* * *

 _Chapter 2: Aces High  
_

* * *

[Valais Air Base]  
[East Ustio]  
[0550 hours]  
[3/15/2024]  
[Alt: 10000ft]

"Knight Squadron, this is AWACS Spirit Eye. From now on, I will relay any orders from Belkan Air Force Command. Your current orders are to intercept and destroy incoming Osean attack aircraft. Bombers sighted at vector 080, range - eight miles. Knight Squadron, engage."

Those were our orders. Shoot down some bombers. It seemed easy enough at the time. As my squadron split up, I found myself trailing an Osean attacker, what appeared to be an A-6 Intruder. When I squeezed the trigger on my flight stick, I heard the 23mm cannon on my aircraft roar to life, and watched as the opposing aircraft was slowly torn apart, a segment of wing flying off. After a short burst, the A-6 burst into flames. "Werewolf 9 hit! Ejecting!" The enemy pilot proclaimed over the radio, before being cut off by the sound of an explosion. By this point, I had already broken off my pursuit in search of said bombers. At the start of the raid, it was 0550, and the sun was beginning to crest the nearby mountains.

"This is Grizzly 4, on direct approach to Valais Air Base. Preparations are complete for first pass on main hangar facilities at the Southern end of the base. Dagger 5, Dagger 2, think you could fly support? These ol' Stratofortresses ain't exactly got much in the ways of AA." One of the bomber pilots had commanded. From the tension in his voice, it was clear that stress was starting to get to the enemy pilots. Maybe they hadn't expected such fierce resistance? "That's a big negative, Grizzly 4. AWACS has confirmed on radar three fighters inbound, we're breaking to engage." His comrade, either Dagger 5 or Dagger 2, I could not remember, had responded. As I looked forward, I found myself in an aerial game of cat and mouse.

Two opposing fighters, both F-5E's, had broken off their defensive formation of the bombers to engage, and attempt to, shoot me down. Even though I was still considered a "Nugget" by the rest of my squadron, I nonetheless made it as difficult as possible for the enemy fighters to get radar lock. When I saw an opportunity, I applied full brake, which caused the opposing fighters to seemingly slingshot ahead of me. The moment I got good tone, I made my announcement. "Knight 4, Fox 2!" I said, and launched a missile from an underwing hardpoint. The missile struck one of the Osean F-5's in the starboard engine, causing it to burst into flame. Orange fire leaked from the twisted metal, and the pilot made his final farewell. "I'm hit! Ejec-" Static.

Like the pilot of the A-6, he too was cut off by the sounds of an explosion, and his aircraft proceeded to disintegrate in the skies over Ustio. I would learn later that the pilot of that particular aircraft was 1st. Lieutenant Jamison Briggs, Jr., a father of two and proprietor of a restaurant in downtown Oured. After the war, I made sure to track down his surviving family and share my condolences about his death. I would make sure to visit his grave, and lament how we couldn't share the skies over Osea without bloodshed. As I scanned my surroundings, I had lost sight of the second Tiger, certain I had lost the aircraft. "Knight 4, behind you! Behind you!" My radio blared to life. It was one of my fellow pilots, Capt. Carlos Ortega.

Ortega was... An unusual pilot. He always said that he favored CAS (Close-Air-Support) aircraft, but seemed more than capable in a fighter. "Enemy's locked on, break hard right!" I followed through with his command, turning just in time to watch a missile streak off into the distance. "I'll handle the fighters, you go after the bombers." "Copy that. Valais ATC, this is Knight 4 on approach from vector 179. I have two bombers on scope." After relaying a sitrep, I applied full thrust and began my pursuit of the B-52s that had attacked our base. "Shit! Shit! Dagger Squadron, we've got a fighter tailing us! Requesting support, over!" To the bomber crew's dismay, there was no response. "I repeat: We need help, now! Are there any fighters still up?!"

"Knight 4, Fox 2." Two missiles streaked away from my aircraft, impacting the port wing of the Stratofortress. Fuel ignited, causing orange flame and thick, black smoke to pour from the stricken bomber. "Grizzly 5, we're breaking up! We're bailing!" Unlike the two fighters, the crew of the B-52 had managed to escape the aircraft, before it broke apart in mid-air. As I watched the bomber sink into the vast sea that was the morning sky, my radio crackled to life. "Knight Squadron, this is AWACS Spirit Eye. Valais ATC reports complete sanitation of enemy aircraft from airspace. Good job, and RTB immediately." On the ground, however, things had gone awry. The IFF (Identify - Friend or Foe) systems on Valais' AA defenses had been damaged in the raid.

"That is a _negative_ , Spirit Eye. We still see one fighter on scope, and are attempting to get a lock." The ground crew stated, as our AWACS tried to convince them otherwise. "There are no more fighters on our scope. All we see is Knight 4. Do not engage. I repeat: Do not engage!" By then, it was too late. A single SAM (Surface-Air Missile) had been launched, and it was aimed at my fighter. "SAM launched. Spirit Eye, tell us when that fighter's been blown out o' the sky for us." "Knight 4, break! Break! Friendlies have launched a single missile at you!" I did my best to evade the missile, but it was no use. There was an explosion, and the right wingtip of my plane seemed to vanish. "This is Knight 4! Attempting emergency landing on Runway 1B!" I alerted Valais as best I could, before receiving the one piece of news I dreaded.

"Negative, Knight 4. Runway 1B was hit during the attack. You'll have to ditch." With those words, I reached between my legs and yanked on the ejector handle. In an instant, the cold air was blowing in my face, and the rocket boosters of the ejector seat propelled me out of my stricken fighter, which exploded shortly after. "Well... Long way down..." I said to myself, holding on to my parachute with all my strength. "Spirit Eye here, aircraft that was shot down was Knight 4. Knight 4, how far out from Valais are you?" Spirit Eye asked. Even with the radio crackle, I could tell that the voice belonged to a woman. "Spirit Eye, I'm about twelve clicks out. When I get back, tell the guy who shot me down that I'm gonna punch him in the face.

* * *

 _"It's highly likely that this will be your final mission. We need heroes_ **after** _the war, too. Make it back in one piece. Dismissed!" ~ Anonymous ISAF Operator, prior to Operation Judgement Day, 2005_

* * *

[Valais Air Base]  
[North Ustio]  
[1250 hours]  
[3/15/2024]

Now that I was back on the ground, and more importantly, back at the base, myself and the rest of my squadron made our way to the briefing room for our debriefing. Standing at the opposite end of a large, round table was our Base Commander. An older gentleman, it was obvious the surprise attack had alarmed him, considerably. "You three... You're the fighter pilots who saved this base, is that correct? I extend my thanks, and gratitude to you three." He asked, with Eugene nodding. "Yes sir. We're the 7th Air Division, 22nd Reserve Fighter Squadron." With pleasantries now out of the way, our Commander began the debriefing.

"At 0550, we were attacked by a relatively small force of Osean attack aircraft, bombers, and fighters. We believe these actions have something to do with the recent political turmoil in the Free Republic of Osea, formerly the Osean Federation. The Republic of Osea recently announced plans to leave FATO, citing 'Geopolitical exploit' as their reasoning. Now, on with the attack. The Osean Air Force sent a flight of four A-6 Intruders, two small fighter detachments, and two B-52 Stratofortress heavy bombers. Thanks to you, this force was obliterated. However, we are still left with one question - Why? Why, after 30 years of peace, would Osea reform itself into a Republic, and then go on the offensive? As of now, we are on the defensive, and we are unsure of if, and when, there will be another attack. For now, though, we can hope that this sends a message to Osea. Dismissed."

After the debriefing, I decided to head to the mess hall, wondering if there would be any form of report about the early morning attack. To my astonishment, there was. "Hey, you mind turning the TV up?" I asked, as one of the other 'residents' of the base did so. The news report that followed would change my life forever.

"The morning of March 15th will forever be remembered as one of violence, as the Free Republic of Osea declared war on its Eastern neighbors of Belka, Ustio and Sapin, and announced that they would commence invasion efforts of Aurelia in the coming weeks. These actions less than a year after the assassination of President Vincent Harling at his landmark fourth inauguration, following a landslide victory against his rival, Maxwell Huntley. The Independent State Allied Forces, along with FATO, have condemned the actions of Osea, with ISAF Four-Star General Markus DeWynter saying at a press conference, "The actions of Osea are inexcusable. ISAF and FATO will do what they can to maintain peace within the region." As of right now, the number of casualties has not been released. For the Usean News Agency, this has been an early breaking report."

War. War had always been in my life, from as far back as I could remember. My father was a soldier serving under the ISAF flag during the Erusian War of 2003-2005, he was killed during Operation Judgement day, the ISAF attack on the Megalith launch facility. In school, we were taught how warmongering did more to spread fear and hatred, than it did to spread unity and peace. My step-father fought during the Circum-Pacific War of 2010, taking part in the Invasion of Yuktobania. After he returned, he gave me a valuable lesson that I would never forget. "Keenan. Son. War isn't just what you see on TV. War is an unfortunate side-effect of power hungry leaders, and the men behind them, wanting more than what they already have."

Even though I was only 14 at the time, those words stuck with me. At my step-fathers funeral, I gave a brief eulogy, about how good of a man he was, and how he was a valiant soldier. I we never able to truly say I loved him. Even now, those words resonate with me every minute of my life. "Hey, Keenan. Wanna get something to drink from the cantina?" Eugene asked, having sat next to me after the news report. "Huh? Oh, no thanks. I'm fine. Besides, isn't it a little early to be drinking?" I asked him, managing to form a smile despite the intense dread I felt, knowing that we were officially at war. Eugene could only break out into laughter, as did I. "Y'know, Ace, you sure know how to lighten up the room."


	3. Chapter 3: Interception and Attack

_"The situation in Erusea has been steadily increasing in severity. Following the assassination of King Jeremiah XI and his wife, Duchess Penelope, the prevailing force in the nation declared themselves the "Federal Republic of Erusea", and quickly mounted an invasion against the ISAF-held nation of San Salvacion." ~ ONN Reporter, 2003  
_

* * *

 _Chapter 3: Interception and Attack!  
_

* * *

[Valais Valley]  
[East Ustio]  
[1521 hours]  
[3/29/2024]  
[Alt: 2500ft]

More than a week had passed without any sign of another Osean attack. Even still, Valais Air Base was on high alert, with the three fighter squadrons stationed there, Knight, Rook and Bishop, performing routine patrols. Today, it was Knight Squadron's patrol. Unfortunately for us, it was in the middle of a snowstorm, yet our commander insisted we patrol. "Did they have to send us up in a blizzard? I can barely see a thing! Spirit Eye, anything on radar?" Eugene asked, staying in tight formation with the rest of us. "Negative, Knight 1. Skies are clear, retu- Hang on a second, something just appeared on radar. Knight Squadron, move to intercept unidentified aircraft on vector 120." "Roger. Keenan, Carlos, follow me." He ordered, banking sharply to the right.

Five minutes after the aircraft was spotted on radar, and after we breached the far end of the clouds, we caught sight of our intruder. It was a damaged E-767 AWACS aircraft, bearing Aurelian markings and trailing heavy smoke from engine 2. "Unidentified aircraft, you have entered restricted airspace. We advise you change course, or you will be shot down." Carlos said, his distinctive Sapinish accent making it hard for me to understand. "I repeat: Divert course, or you will be shot down." We waited for the crew of the aircraft to respond, a feeling of tension and dread in the air. As a break in the increasing silence, our radios crackled to life. "Don't... Attacked by... Fighters." The pilot's transmission was heavy with static, and I stepped up to the plate.

"Attention, unidentified aircraft, please say again. There's heavy interference from your radio." I said, hoping my voice would ease them from the scare they must have gone through. "Don't shoot! We were attacked by fighters while crossing the border over Osea! We've sustained heavy damaged and require permission to land. This is Captain Alexander Hrothgar of the Aurelian Air Force. I repeat, we're requesting permission to land at the nearest airstrip." Now that we knew the identity of the invading aircraft, we needed a plan. "One second, Captain Hrothgar. Valais, this is Knight 4. We've ID'd the aircraft spotted by Spirit Eye. It's an Aurelian AWACS plane. They've apparently sustained heavy damage, and are requesting permission to land."

"Roger, Knight 4. Tell the Aurelian craft to get into a holding pattern at 5100 while we clear runway 1A." Valais ATC relayed back to me, and to which I relayed to the AWACS. "Aurelian AWACS, Valais Air Traffic Control is requesting you enter a holding pattern at 5100 feet, while they clear runway 1A. Do you understand?" "We copy. Thank you for your assistance." When they replied, I let out a sigh of relief, glad that we had managed to save a life for once. "Copy, Captain Hrothgar. Proceed at 5100 feet and enter holding pattern over Valais." What we hadn't realized at the time, was that the fighters that had attacked the Aurelian plane were stalking us. A formation of four, they stalked us, utilizing the stealth capabilities of their craft to remain hidden.

This squadron was known as "Vigilante", and was an elite unit of the Leasath Armed Air Force. The squadron was comprised of four pilots, each flying a unique aircraft. Their leader, callsign Khan, flew an F-23 Recluse, while two of his wingmen flew an F-117 Nighthawk and PAK-FA respectively. The forth wing, however, was different. He flew an advanced prototype aircraft known only as "Super Raptor". "Damn! Our prey got away. The boss ain't gonna like this. Khan, should we pursue?" One of the pilots, callsign Altima, asked. "Negative. Vigilante, regroup with WarChief and friendly KC-5 en-route back to Osean airspace." Their flight lead had since turned back, and their radios crackled to life "Vigilante, this is WarChief. How'd the mission go? Did you shoot down that Aurelian spy?" "Negative. We are en-route to base."

Back on the ground, we were immediately pulled into the briefing room. "Gentlemen, we have a situation." Our commander was much more... Concerned about the recent events than we had expected him to be, and he went on with the debriefing and briefing of our next mission. While we were prepared to go on the offensive, we weren't prepared for it to be so soon.

"As of now, Valais Air Base is a strict no-fly zone. Any aircraft, military or not, that flies through this airspace is to be intercepted and diverted immediately. The Aurelian AWACS you escorted was carrying vital information with regards to Osean incursions of Aurelia. How they managed to get out here is unknown, but a transport has been dispatched from Cape Aubry. Now, on to your briefing. Your first _offensive_ mission of this war will take place in the Matroyska Valley, on the border of Ustio and Osea. Osean forces have established an FOB in the town of Vandenberg. There are five main targets that must be destroyed: A fuel depot, on the northern edge of the town, a Command Post, built in the town church, two barracks, situated on opposite ends of the town, and a makeshift airstrip, built from an abandoned farm. Destroy these targets, and any aircraft protecting the base. Dismissed."

On the afternoon of April 2nd, we made our way to the hangar and our crew chief made his presence known. He was a man about the age of Eugene, with short, blonde hair. "You three are Knight Squadron, right? I'm Vince, your crew chief. Since you're flying an air-ground mission, I strongly advise using Attackers, not Fighters. Currently, we don't have much in the way of selection, so we're borrowing some A-4 Skyhawks from Pawn Flight, our resident attackers. You got bombs and heavy cannons on these puppies, so make 'em count. Remember, these ain't your planes, so try to bring 'em back in one piece."

* * *

 _ _"Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector...__ _ _ _The flames of hatred scorch the skies... Igniting Gaia's funeral pyre."_ ~ Excerpt from the poem Blue Skies, written by the Erusian poet Louis Mihael, 1821__

* * *

[Matroyska Valley]  
[East Ustio]  
[1400 hours]  
[4/2/2024]  
[Alt: 1500ft]

"Spirit Eye here. You have 15 minutes to destroy all five targets in Vandenberg. There are two fighter squadrons of four planes each circling the base. Destroy the facilities first, then go after the fighters if you can. Those A-4 Skyhawks aren't built for dogfighting, after all, so be careful. Fuel depot at vector 171. Knight Squadron, engage." _  
_

After a long flight, we found our target. Vandenberg was a typical, sleepy mountain town. Even with the war raging on around it, the town managed to retain some of its quiet charm. That changed after the Osean forces arrived. They ransacked the local produce market, turning it into a makeshift garrison. Any residents who had the gal to speak ill of the occupying soldiers were taken to the 'garrison' and disappeared. "Hey, Keenan." Eugene said to me, as we made our approach. "What's up, Gene?" "Today's my birthday. Think a victory would make a great present?" I snickered when he said that, keeping my mind focused on the mission at hand. "Spirit Eye here. One last order from Command: Keep civilian damages to a minimum. Use your guns whenever possible."

"Great! Now we gotta be snipers at Mach 1!" Carlos proclaimed, letting out a disgruntled sigh. "Relax, Ortega. It ain't gonna be that bad. 'Sides, you excel in CAS aircraft." Eugene reassured him, as we began our attack. The three of us split up, with Eugene going after the Command Post, Carlos going for the airstrip, and I going after the fuel depot. With a long burst of machine gun fire, I strafed the depot and caused it to burst into flames. "Fuel Depot destroyed! Ten minutes left before reinforcements arrive." Our AWACS relayed to us. I watched as two missiles streaked from Carlos's aircraft, and the airstrip's hangar was consumed by a fireball of vibrant orange flame. "Airstrip Hangar destroyed! Seven minutes until reinforcements arrive."

"Well, well, well... It seems like the stray cats are clawing at our feet, wouldn't you say, Altima?" This voice was strange. It wasn't either of us. "Vigilante Squadron, wipe those runts from this airspace!" "Knight Squadron, RTB immediately! You aren't outfitted to deal with those fighters!" Spirit Eye's tone was urgent, and we broke off our attack. "Spirit Eye, who are they? Why can't we engage them? Say something!" Eugene asked, but got no answer. "Spirit Eye, do you read?" "Sorry, Knight Squadron. Your new orders are to vacate Vandenberg airspace at once. Return to base for debriefing." She said, while we turned back. "Running with their tails between their legs! So is the fate of the Knight Squadron!" The opposing pilot said over his radio, presumably to his wingmen.

After landing back at Valais, we were quickly escorted to the briefing room. Once again, our Base Commander was there, and he looked rather cross with the current situation. "Knight Squadron, we were forced to abort your strike mission against the Vandenberg FOB due to the arrival of an unknown fighter squadron. All we currently know about them is that they fly some of the most advanced aircraft available - For example, their flight lead flies an F-23 Recluse, the production variant of the YF-23 Black Widow II. Their aircraft all have one thing in common - Stealth. This means, if you three were to ever engage them in traditional combat, you would need to be very careful with your shots - Firing missiles only when you're _behind_ the opposing fighters. Regardless, this has been a big day for the Belkan war effort. Your actions cut the Osean forces in the Matroyska Valley off from the nearest base. Now, on to your next mission. Lieutenant Jenkins, if you please?"

After Jenkins stepped forward, the projector screen changed. "Knight Squadron, I am Lieutenant Leroy Jenkins, of the Aurelian Air Force Liaison. I was on board the E-767 that you intercepted on the 29th. Once again, thank you for your actions. Two transports are currently on en-route to this base to pick up the AWACS equipment and crew of the 767. On the way back, we will need an escort. After watching your coordination, and examining the data from your previous op, we have decided to allow you three to fly escort. The transport is being escorted here by Talon Flight, which means you three'll be able to experience _real_ fighters." He said, snickering. "Anyway, Talon Flight will loan you their F-4 Phantoms. They're a little slower and less maneuverable than your MiG's, but they have a hefty payload."

"Knight Squadron, dismissed." Our base commander told us, still worried about the events of today. As we turned to leave, after Jenkins had left, the commander stopped us. "Before you three leave, I have something important to tell you. Because of your actions the past month, we, at the behest of Lieutenant General Geraldo Riviera, have elected to change your squadron's designation. As of now, you three will be known as the 7th Air Division, 22nd _Tactical_ Fighter Squadron. Now, you may leave."


	4. Chapter 4: ISAF Escort

_"This is the Round Table. Dead men's words hold no meaning." ~ Larry Foulke, 1995_

* * *

 _Chapter 4: ISAF Escort_

* * *

[Area B7R]  
[Ustio-Osea Border]  
[1100 hours]  
[4/9/2024]  
[Alt: 6500ft]

"Knight Squadron, this is AWACS Hawkeye of the 8th Air Division. Unfortunately, due to mechanical issues, Spirit Eye won't be available to assist you on this mission. Do you see the KC-5 Galaxy in front of you? The three of you are to perform mid-air refueling while escorting Odessa 1 and Odessa 2 to Cape Aubrey Air Force Base. Hawkeye, out."

It was strange, having a different voice provide us instructions. Even though we had only been an active fighter squadron for less than a month, we had already gotten used to the voice of Spirit Eye. Perhaps it was her faint Ustian accent, but having a male voice relay us our orders was... Odd. "Knight 1, ready to refuel." Gene said, slowly getting his F-4 into position. Well, it wasn't _his_ F-4. These fighters were on loan from the Aurelian Air Force's Talon Flight, the members of which were on board Odessa 2. "Roger, Knight 1. Hold position while refueling is in progress." After the refueling procedures were complete, we continued with our mission, descending to 6500 feet so we could maintain visual on the two transports. "Would you look at that... The Round Table itself..."

"Uh... Gene? What are you talking about? What's the Round Table?" I asked him. Even though I had been living in Belka for four years, I hadn't heard of the 'Round Table'. "The Round Table... The Round Table is the place where wars are decided. Every single war that's ever been fought on the Osean continent has had a battle take place here, be it a ground or air battle. The victors of these battles are known from then on as the Lords of The Round Table." He explained, until our AWACS interrupted. "Three targets coming in at vector 191. IFF has them marked as bogeys. Keep them from shooting down Odessa. Knight Squadron, Engage." Our orders were clear, keep Odessa 1 and 2 airborne. We would do that, no matter the cost.

"Ghost 2, Ghost 3. Go after the fighters. The transports are mine. By the authority of the Free Republic of Osea, we will shoot you down." One of the opposing pilots declared. "Ghost Squadron, you are free to engage." I had heard of Ghost Squadron in the past. They were notorious for being unorthodox with the aircraft they went up in. Despite being a Tactical Fighter Squadron, they almost exclusively used attackers, F-117's to be specific. Two of the aircraft broke from Ghost 1's formation, and they soon vanished from radar. "What the?! They vanished!" I said, with Carlos letting out a sigh. "They're using stealth! If you wanna get a lock, you gotta get behind them!" I quickly banked right, the large F-4 slowly turning around to face my opponent. I looked to my RIO, who gave the thumbs up.

"Knight 4, Fox 2! Fox 2!" I said, watching as two missiles streaked from the wings of my craft, and as they impacted the rear of one of the Nighthawks. "I'm breaking up! Ejecting!" I watched the pilot bail out, his parachute unfurling like the wings of a butterfly. I then turned my attention to the other Nighthawk. "You're in gun range, Keenan." the RIO stated, and I pressed down on the trigger, feeling the aircraft vibrate as the 20mm M61 Vulcan cannon roared to life, ripping the right segment of the F-117's distinctive "V-tail" off, along with a section of the right wing. The aircraft began to roll violently, before ripping itself apart in a ball of orange fire. "Splash two bandits!" He said, as I scanned the skies for the flight lead. "Argh! You're persistent bastards, aren't you?"

I could see his craft, an F-117 like the rest of his squadron, but painted slate grey with the image of a Grim Reaper on the side. He was hotly engaged with our flight lead, with Carlos following him. Tracers streamed from both of their craft's guns, to the point where I could swear the barrels were glowing. "Keenan, Carlos, I might try something really stupid." I heard Gene say, an air of desperation in his voice. "What're you gonna try, boss?" Carlos asked. I could hear Gene snicker after Carlos asked his question. "I'm gonna try a Cobra!" From my position, and undoubtedly from Carlos', watched in awe as the nose of the massive F-4 reared up slowly, the craft slowing to a halt. "Gene, what are you doing?!" I asked, as Ghost 1 and Carlos screamed past him.

I couldn't believe my eyes, watching as the F-4 Phantom practically stood on its tail, before coming back down again. It seemed like it was in slow motion, even as Carlos ducked out of the way. "Knight 1, Fox 2!" Gene proclaimed, a single missile streaking from one of his underwing hardpoints. After the missile hit, I watched as the pilot of the Nighthawk ejected. "This is Knight Squadron to Hawkeye, we've defeated the assailing aircraft. Seemed like they were the Ghost Squadron. How far out are we from Cape Aubrey?" Gene asked, waiting a minute before Hawkeye gave his answer. "Roughly 1200 miles out. Regroup with KC-5 Galaxy for refueling. Good job protecting the transports, Knight Squadron. Surely, this'll reflect well on your combat record."

With those words, I was conflicted. Yes, we were doing our part in the fight against Osea, but was it worth it? The pilots we were shooting down had lives, and families of their own. I couldn't just consider them kills, could I? We continued on our advance, again unaware that we were being stalked, this time by the AWACS of the unknown fighter squadron. "Vigilante, this is AWACS WarChief. The Knights are continuing East on vector 247, enroute to Aurelia. Transports show no damage - Repeat, Ghost scored zero hits. We lost contact with the squadron and believe they were shot down."

"Don't worry, WarChief. We'll get those bastards soon."

* * *

 _"Scorched Earth breathes new fire... The protector rose from ash... To strike down those who sought to slay it..." ~ The closing lines to Blue Skies, written by Louis Mihael, 1821._

* * *

[Cape Aubrey Air Force Base]  
[Daniel County, Aurelia]  
[1540 hours]  
[4/11/2024]

We had arrived in Cape Aubrey on the 11th, after a grueling flight. On the ground, we were greeted by the ground crew at the base, and an ISAF general, who quickly ushered us into the base's briefing room.

"Gentlemen, my name is Richard White, I am with the Independent State Allied Forces, tasked with keeping this base running. At 0500, the Ministry of War and Defense in Erusea declared a state of emergency, after several high-value individuals were brazenly executed in the state of Roman. The group who executed the individuals, which included three Royal Guards, is calling themselves the Free Erusian State, and have taken responsibility for a number of high profile terrorist attacks throughout Erusea, and the Federation of Usea. I know all about you, Knight Squadron, and we'd like for you to join us in our fight against these terrorists. If you accept, you'll be flying with the one and only Mobius Squadron."

Mobius Squadron. I had read about them in school, how their leader had taken a vow of silence. I could see Gene hesitate for a second, but he accepted the offer. "We would be honored to fly alongside Mobius, General White." He said, a bright smile on his face. Truth be told, I was excited as well, to fly alongside one of my childhood heroes. The General smiled as well, placing a hand on Gene's shoulder. "Excellent. You'll be on the next outbound flight for Istas Fortress. We'll give you three time to rest until then." He said, as Gene turned to me and Carlos. "Can you believe it?! We'll be flying with Mobius! How cool is that?" He was excited, no doubt about it, but Carlos appeared to be less excited. "Eugene, Osea is at our doorstep, yet you're eager on going to some God forsaken country just because some man in a nice suit said so?!"

Admittedly, I was a little confused with the whole scenario - We were at active war with Osea. How could we be so quick to leave our own battlefield for a foreign one? I asked Gene, "When do you think we'll come back?" Gene's excitement had died down a fair bit, and he sighed. Looking at me, we made eye contact. "Keenan, Carlos, I know you two wanna get home, but the safety of the world is at stake. You can't just give that up, even for your personal victories." That night, as we slept, I would dream of a battle far in the future, one of certain doom for myself, the rest of Knight Squadron, and all of Belka.

[Alt: 6666ft]

"Knight 4, you are cleared for takeoff." With engines at full thrust, my aircraft began to roll down the runway. As I looked to the skies, I could see they were ablaze with gunfire. As soon as I was airborne, Spirit Eye relayed her orders. "Airborne carrier OFS _Razgriz_ sighted on vector 772, eight miles. Knight Squadron, engage." In this dream, my aircraft was an F-27A Scarface, an advanced fighter. I could see that Carlos was flying an F-35S Lightning, and Gene an F-22A Raptor. "Helldiver, Bruiser. This is Hunter. Our mission is to shoot down the _Razgriz_." I said, my voice rather stern. "You two go after the fighter squadrons being launched from _Razgriz_ and _Spiridus_. I'll go after the Razgriz herself." My squadmates broke off our three-plane formation and were quickly enrolled in what could only be described as a furball.

In the distance, I could see it. Not the _Razgriz_ , but the squadron that had brought despair to us from the beginning - The Osean Air Force 56th Tactical Fighter Squadron, Vigilante. "Knight Squadron. How kind of you to join what will be your last engagement. Do not worry about your friends, they will be... _Grounded_ , soon enough." The enemy flight leader said to me, in an act of intimidation. I ignored his words, just to hear words I feared crackle through the radio. "Knight 1 hit, I'm ba-" Silence. More chatter crackled through, the voice seemingly that of an opposing pilot. "That's a confirmed kill on a Knight!" This was followed shortly by me seeing Carlos's plane get torn in half by a QAAM. "Knight 2, respond. Knight 2?" I said, desperation in my voice.

"Marauder, Fox 2!" I turned sharply to avoid the missile that was fired at me, but the craft that had fired it... I had seen it before. It was _Him_ , the pilot who had shot down Mobius 1. Our chase saw us reach high up over the battle, pushing my aircraft to the absolute limit. "Just give up! Your squadron's dead, your family's gonna die, just _give up!_ " Upon hearing those words, I turned hard to the right, to face him. Our aircraft screamed closer and closer at Mach 3. Just before we collided, my vision went black, and I could hear a voice I hadn't heard in years; my mother's.

"Keenan. Keenan. Wake up. It's time to go."


	5. Chapter 5: ISAF

_"ISAF is dedicated to maintaining international peace wherever, whenever. It is our mission to ensure that civilian casualties are minimized, and has been since the Erusian War of 2003." ~ FCU President/ISAF Chairman Richard Grier, 2009 G20 Summit._

* * *

 _Chapter 5: ISAF_

* * *

[Cape Aubrey Air Force Base]  
[Daniel County, Aurelia]  
[1100 hours]  
[4/12/2024]

When I woke, I found myself still in our temporary barracks, having been woken by Gene. "Come on, man! We gotta go! White said we were on the first outbound flight." He said to me, as I got out of bed and prepared for our flight. After washing up and getting dressed, I walked passed the hangars, peering in to see what aircraft was in them. They had an assortment of fighters, from the F-4 Phantoms we flew in, to three F-22 Raptors. One, however, caught my eye. It glistened, white and red. "What plane's that?" I asked one of the ground crew, who just smirked. "It's Scarface." He said, grinning as he continued to walk. Scarface... That name would stick with me throughout our flight to Usea. As we taxied, I could see the craft of the Southern Cross, Gryphus 1. While I couldn't hear it, our flight crew was conversing with the base's ATC.

"ISAF flight 162, this is Air Traffic Control. Proceed to taxiway 3 and wait for Gryphus 1 to leave the runway. You got special cargo on board today, so don't do anything _too_ crazy." He said, while our captain snickered. "Roger, we won't do any barrel rolls or anything like that. As I watched Gryphus 1 leave the runway, and soar into the air, we were given clearance to proceed to the runway. "Flight 162, proceed to runway 1A and wait for clearance." After what felt like an eternity, we had been cleared for takeoff. "Flight 162, you are cleared for takeoff. Godspeed, and good luck to the fighter pilots you have on board." For the most part, our flight was uneventful, aside from some turbulence and a sudden rainstorm. For the majority of the 18-hour long flight, Gene had been reading a novel he brought aboard.

"Gene, what're you reading?" I asked him, as he looked up. "Oh, it's a novel I bought in Mante a couple years ago. It's called The Belkan Knights." He said, as he returned to the book. "What's it about?" I asked, curious about the novel. "It's about four fighter pilots during the Belkan Civil War of 1935. They faced impossible odds to reunite our country, facing off against giant robots, massive zeppelins and an elite ace squadron. I think you'd like it." I nodded, before resting my head on the headrest. "I just hope we get to return home quickly. I've been meaning to write my mother a letter. She must be worried sick about me." I said, sighing. This prompted Carlos, who was in the row opposite us, to interject. "I know how you feel, man. I've been meaning to e-mail my wife, tell her I'm alright."

When we landed in Expo City on the 13th, I saw how much the city reminded me of home. My father was from the city, though I wouldn't be able to see him much. He was a soldier, much like I would become now. At the gates to the airport was a sculpture of an F-22 Raptor, the same type of aircraft that Mobius 1 flew. I approached the statue and read the inscription on a small, brass plaque. "This plaque and sculpture are dedicated to the men and women who lost their lives to protect our Nation, our Freedom, and our Countrymen. It commemorates the actions of ISAF during the 2003-2006 Erusian War." I smiled softly with the knowledge that my father wasn't completely forgotten. "Yo, Keenan. You coming, or what?" Gene asked, as I felt that warmth shatter. "Y-yeah, I'm coming." I said, catching up with him.

We were taken to the ISAF World Headquarters, just outside of the city. The large, glass and metal building intimidated me at first, and the atmosphere therein did as well. World leaders were present, from almost every country that had joined ISAF. All, except Osea. Instead, two representatives of the "Free Republic of Osea". We were taken to the main conference hall, where the annual G7 summit was to take place. It felt strange, having gone from a sleepy airbase in the middle of nowhere, to the forefront of what seemed to be shaping into an international war. The host speaker, ISAF Chairman Richard Grier, first took the stand for his speech. While I don't remember it word for word, I do remember the most important part - ISAF's declaration of war.

"Fellow delegates, respected guests and dignitaries, we must address the worsening situation in the former Osean Federation. So far, the countries of Ustio, Ratio, Recta and Wielvakia are on the verge of total collapse, as a direct result of Osean warmongering and fear mongering. Not since the Aurelian War has there been such a divide among states involved with both ISAF and FATO. With each passing minute, the Republican party in Osea gains an unprecedented number of followers, and they all seem out for blood. With this, there is no "Grey area". It is simple: This is all-out war. Would the representatives from Osea, please take the stand?" He said, as two men wearing black suits stood. "Chairman Grier, there is no "war". This is simply Osea re-taking the territory that rightfully belongs to it, as per the Osean constitution. The actions overseas are none of ISAF's concern."

I could tell that Grier was cross with that statement. As he moved on to the next subject, I kept my attention focused on him. "As we all know, Erusea has been stricken with a crisis much the same as the War of 2003. A terrorist faction calling themselves the "Free Erusian State" or FES, has taken responsibility for attacks in the cities of Farbanti, San Dorado and the Seals Bridge in Villa Grande. As well, they recently assassinated four high-ranking individuals of the Royal Ministry of War and Defense, and announced plans to go after the Royal Family if control over Erusea is not handed to them by the end of this year. Seeing as ISAF has a large contingent in Erusea, it is our duty to protect the country, at all costs."

By the time the summit was finished, myself, Gene and Carlos were taken to the closest airbase, where we would receive our aircraft, and find out what squadron we'd be flying with.

* * *

 _"I was just a child when the stars fell from the skies. But I remember how they built a cannon to destroy them... And in turn, how that cannon brought war to us." ~ Jeremy Richardson, in his famous letter to Mobius 1, 2015.  
_

* * *

[Newfield Island]  
[Northeast Usea]  
[1200 hours]  
[4/19/2024]  
[Alt: 4000ft]

"All Mobius and Raptor aircraft, this is AWACS SkyEye. We have three guests with us today, from Belka. They represent the 7th Air Division, 22nd Tactical Fighter Squadron, also known as "Knight". Their call signs are Bruiser, Helldiver, and Hunter, respectively. Treat them with the same respect and admiration you treat your flight leads. This training exercise will be to familiarize yourselves with the aircraft you have all been provided, and your overall objective is to 'shoot down' Mobius 1. Don't worry, your guns have been outfitted with blanks, and Mobius 1's aircraft has been outfitted with sensors to simulate battle damage. Missiles have training warheads as well, which will detonate 50 feet from Mobius 1's craft."

"SkyEye, this is Mobius 11. If we're flyin' F-22s and F-35s, why're the Belkans flyin' Phantoms? We're libel to shoot 'em down in the confusion!" One of the pilots said, as another pilot, one of the Raptor pilots, spoke up. "It's so they have a handicap. Belkan pilots are leaps and bounds better than _us_ , so why not give them something to slow them down." "Mobius 11, Raptor 3, this is SkyEye. The real reason is that the Belkans aren't as well-versed with these aircraft as you are. Like I said earlier, treat them with the same respect you give Mobius 1, Remington, and myself." At this point, I interjected myself. "SkyEye, this is Knight 4. Where exactly _is_ Mobius 1, anyway?" I asked. As if on cue, a white and blue aircraft, similar in design to an F-22 streaked past. "Mobius 1 has just passed you. Engage."

As the exercise commenced, Mobius 1's craft seemed to do the impossible - Cobras, Kulbits and maneuvers we hadn't seen before. Missiles streaked from the other aircraft, including my wingmates. No matter what, Mobius 1 seemed to evade every single missile. This massive furball continued for what seemed like hours, as the aircraft of Mobius, Raptor, and my squadron were effortlessly "Shot down" by Mobius 1. When I was the final pilot 'alive', I did my best to match Mobius 1's plane. The Phantom I was flying seemed to lurch and heave, straining to keep up such intense maneuvers. When I finally had Mobius 1 in my sights, and with successful radar lock, I fired. "Knight 4, Fox 2! Fox 2!" I announced, the two missiles missiles catching Mobius's plane and... Detonating with puffs of white smoke. I had done it. I had shot down Mobius 1.

"Excellent flying! Who was the pilot who scored the kill? I wanna thank him when we're on the ground." The voice... That wasn't any of Mobius, Raptor or Knight Squadron. Neither was it SkyEye. We were all confused as to who had spoken. "Uh... Say again? Who is this?" I asked, as the voice came back. "This is Mobius 1. Whoever managed to shoot me down has some skill. I wanna thank him personally." Our confusion had turned to shock. I had heard stories of Mobius 1, how he was a silent ace. His entire squadron had been shot down during the initial attack on Stonehenge in 2003, and he had taken a vow of silence as a result. "Mobius 1, this is SkyEye. The pilot who scored the kill was Knight 4, flying the F-4 Phantom with the shark's mouth on the nose." Mobius 1, the Grim Reaper, had a voice. And we had heard it for the first time in 20 years.

"Good. Let me congratulate him myself." Mobius 1 said, as we returned to base. When I got in formation alongside the craft belonging to Mobius 1, I could see that it was strikingly similiar to the craft I had seen in my nightmare - It had the nose of an F-22, but the canopy was replaced with the smooth, foreboding metal of a COFFIN. It was longer, too, and the wings seemed to drape downwards, like a cape. I examined the tail, and got all the information I needed. YF-22D was the code for the craft, and it even had a name - Super Raptor. "All Mobius, Raptor and Knight aircraft, this is SkyEye. Excellent work, the exercise was a success. All aircraft RTB immediately." Following Mobius, we turned for Rigley Air Base. Once we were on the ground, I caught my first glimpse of Mobius 1 as he exited his craft, and was helped into a wheelchair.

"Mobius 1, sir?" I asked him, keeping my composure calm and collected. "my name's Keenan Lotheric, of the Belkan Air Force's 7th Air Division, 22nd Fighter Squadron. I just want to say that I feel honored flying with you." "And I feel honored flying with a pilot of your capabilities. How long have you been flying?" I hesitated, before telling him the truth. "I've only been a fighter pilot for less than a year, sir."


	6. Chapter 6: Erusian Airspace

_"The grand tome that is Man has been constantly rewritten throughout history. Even if one were to find the original text, another would argue that it is nothing more than an unfaithful reproduction." ~ Erusian poet Louis Mihael, 1840_

* * *

 _Chapter 6: Erusian Airspace_

* * *

[Area K2Z (No Man's Land)]  
[West Erusea]  
[1000 hours]  
[Dist. from Stonehenge: 300mi]  
[4/23/2024]  
[Alt: 6700ft]  
[Craft: F-4 Phantom II]

"All Knight aircraft, this is SkyEye. Your orders from ISAF command are to fly cover for the 13th Tank Battalion en-route from the Lambert Mountains. The Free Erusian State has a couple fighter squadrons in the area, so you'll have to do what you can to keep damages to a minimum. Enemy aircraft on vector 190, five miles. Knight Squadron, engage."

Erusea. Decades ago, this was the battleground for a violent, brutal war. The Erusians had managed to commandeer the Stonehenge Turret Network, and used it to wipe out most of ISAF's military force. However, they did have a trump card - Mobius 1. Now, it was our turn to be the hero, and we would do our best to defeat any FES interference. "SkyEye, this is the 13th Tank Battalion, we've just passed Lucifer Crater. Where's our fighter support?!" "Knight Squadron is en-route, two miles out. You should see them any minute." Our fighters soared overhead, and we caught sight of the enemy fighters. "Valentines, we got incoming! Let's show those Knights what happens when they quarrel with Osea!" The enemy flight lead said, as her squadron broke off their attack.

"What the? Oseans? SkyEye, what are Oseans doing out here?!" Gene asked, Quickly breaking off to engage the fighters. "Knight 1, IFF shows that the squadron is Valentine Squadron, of the Osean Air Force. Knight 2 and 4, you are cleared to engage." Our attack began, and I quickly found myself behind an F2 Viper. I pressed down on the trigger, the M61 Vulcan of my F-4 roaring to life. As smoke began to pour out of the opposing fighter, the pilot quickly banked to the left. "This is V5, I'm bugging out!" She said, as her comrades set their sights on me. "Guys, I could use a hand here!" I said, doing my best to evade missiles and gunfire. "Stay still, you little bastard!" One of the opposing pilots said, as she tried her best to get missile lock. Occasionally, they would get lock and fire, but their missiles would miss.

"Keep evading, Keenan! We got your back!" Carlos said, as I kept evading gunfire, pushing my fighter to its limits. "V1, Fox 3!" Their flight lead shouted, as two missiles streaked passed. "SkyEye, we need help! Can't you get Mobius 1 out here or anything?!" I frantically asked, before getting my answer. "Knight Squadron, Mobius 1 is en-route, ten miles out. Hold on until he arrives, and shoot down any fighters you can." Our game of cat and mouse continued, but my will was starting to break. I was ready to give up, and let the fires of Death consume me. I leveled my fighter out and waited to feel the warm caress of fire, when I heard the sound of radar lock. In my absence, I had managed to get behind the flight lead of Valentine Squadron. I fired one missile at her craft, what looked like an F-105 Thunderchief, with the hopes of crippling her.

"All wings, this is V1! Break off your attack on those tanks, we're done here!" She said, as her comrades collectively gave up. "This ain't the last time you'll see us, Knights!" I tracked her badly damaged craft throughout the skies, as SkyEye got back to us. "Mobius 1 has confirmed visual on 13th Tank Battalion, and they report zero casualties. Excellent work, Knight Squadron." I was relieved, knowing that our mission was complete. "Hey, Keenan, you notice anything weird about that squadron?" Gene asked me, and I replied that I hadn't. "No, what?" I asked, scanning the horizon for any more aircraft. "Their lead was flying a Thunderchief. Wasn't that discontinued in the 70's?" Gene had a point. Nominally, the Osean Army, Navy and Air Forces all had the most advanced equipment.

As soon as we landed, the three of us were again pulled into the briefing room. Unlike Valais, Dakota Hill Air Base was considerably larger than Home - Full accommodation for five squadrons, bombers and some of the most advanced AAA we'd ever seen. Once inside, we were debriefed on our operation.

"Thanks to your efforts, the 13th Tank Battalion was able to make it out of No Man's Land in one piece. However, ISAF intelligence has discovered that FES has managed to restore the remaining Stonehenge Cannon into operational condition again, and is planning on using it to hold the Royal Family hostage. Your next mission will likely be extremely dangerous. You will have to destroy the primary operations facilities tied to the cannon, which are located in a three mile long tunnel directly beneath the Array. Our intelligence states that the tunnel is wide enough and tall enough for exactly one fighter to fit in, with little margin for error. Once the facilities are destroyed, the cannon should be inoperable. Afterwards, an ISAF Engineer Corps team will plant charges along the base of the cannon, with the intent on destroying it. Dismissed!"

"We're doin' grunt work again!" Carlos exclaimed, and was rather agitated. "Carlos, this is necessary. We _have_ to do this. For the safety of the _world_."

* * *

 _"The average price for a single Type-45 AAC (Anti-Asteroid Cannon) is $10 billion. The average price of a B-2A Spirit is $737 million. For the total cost of a single array the size of Stonehenge, one could procure eleven Stealth Bombers." ~ Erusian Minister of Finance Alex Smithers, 2001.  
_

* * *

[Larenthian Plains]  
[Central Usea]  
[1200 hours]  
[Dist. From Stonehenge: less than 10mi]  
[4/25/2024]  
[Alt: 3400ft]  
[Craft: F-5 Tiger II]

"SkyEye here. Knight 1 and 2, provide top cover for Knight 4 while he makes his passes through the tunnel underneath Stonehenge. If things get frantic, the KEAF has agreed to scramble Aquila Squadron to assist, and Mobius is on standby. Incoming from Stonehenge, descend below 2000ft immediately."

As we pointed the noses of our aircraft down to descend, our target finally came into view: Stonehenge. At one point, the once mighty array of railguns was used as a weapon of mass destruction, and was Erusea's trump card against ISAF. An asteroid impacted near the 8th gun, rendering it inoperable by the time ISAF retaliated, but ISAF's information was correct: A three mile long tunnel had been dug in the time between the 2003 War until now, and the gargantuan cannon that was still standing seemed to follow our aircraft. I tuned into the radio channel that we assumed the FES was using. "Argh! Why aren't you firing?!" One soldier said, with another replying. "I don't know what you expect me to do! This gun's ancient, there's no way we can keep up with those fighters!"

"Gene, Carlos. I'm going in! Distract them!" I said, as I aimed the nose of my craft towards the mouth of the tunnel. "That fighter! Where's it going?!" I heard the soldiers arguing again. "That's not important. What is important is that we shoot those other fighters down! Scramble Yellow Squadron immediately!" "Are you crazy?! Yellow Squadron is over two hundred miles away! They'll never make it in time!" After I tuned my radio back to our frequency, I announced my approach. "I'm entering the tunnel, I might lose you guys temporarily!" With that, I was in. As it was described, maneuverability in the tunnel was limited, and I only had three chances to make my shots count. Two missiles streaked from my aircraft's wings, before the impacted a command console. "One down." I told myself, as I exited the tunnel.

Turning around, I saw a flurry of commotion, my squadmates engaged with multiple enemy fighters. "Stand still, ISAF bastards!" The opposing pilots said, rage in their voices. I turned around for another pass, and I quickly checked my munitions. One MPM (Multi-Purpose Missile), two QAAM (Quick Anti-Air Missile) and 750 machine gun rounds. On my next pass, I used my guns to destroy the second console. Outside, the soldiers were now starting to get worried. "What's wrong with the cannon, why won't it move?!" One of them asked, while the other was at a loss for words. "I- I don't know! It just stopped moving! I think it can still fire, though. We'll just have to wait for those Arrows to get in the projectile's path!" I exited the tunnel again, and it was now my final pass. Among the furball that had formed, I could see Mobius 1's aircraft.

"Oh, Christ! It's the Ribbon! He's gonna fly in!" One of the soldiers said, as I began my final run. Firing my last missile, I could hear the firing of the Stonehenge cannon cease. "It... It stopped! What the _hell_?!" The soldiers both said, as I flew out of the tunnel. "ISAF Engineers, cannon is disabled. You're free to eliminate ground forces, and blow that thing to Kingdom Come!" I announced, as the furball began to disperse. The total casualties of the day were five Erusian F-4 Phantoms, one F-15 Eagle, and numerous FES insurgents. When we returned to base, after being given a short celebration, we and Mobius 1 were pulled to the briefing room for our debriefing of this mission, and our briefing for the next.

"With Stonehenge now completely inoperable, and the final cannon destroyed, the Free Erusian State no longer has a means to strike at the capital, and the Royal Family. During the mission, however, ISAF Peacekeepers in Oured gathered intelligence regarding a potential Osean superweapon, currently codenamed "Moby Dick". They described the superweapon as an aircraft of gargantuan size, similar to an Estovakian Aigaion-class Heavy Command Cruiser. As such, your next mission, while not particularly difficult, has the potential to be extremely dangerous. You must gather tangible information regarding this superweapon by examining it up close. It is set to be unveiled at the Farbanti International Air Exposition on the 31st. Flying a decommissioned E-2C Hawkeye, you must take pictures of "Moby Dick" without alerting its security force, which is likely to be made up of a squadron of fighters. Dismissed."

After our briefing, we headed to our hangar, to inspect the Hawkeye. "What a crock of shit!" Carlos said, looking at the plane. "They really expect us to go up in _this_ crate?!" "Take it easy, Ortega. We're not gonna be flying this thing all the time. It's just for this one mission." Regardless of what Gene said, Carlos seemed incredibly cross. "I don't give a fuck! _This_? This is like taking a sports car and trading it in for an _RV._ You just don't do that! It's not right, man!" I continued my inspection of the aircraft, running a hand along one of the propellers. "It looks like it's in good order. You have nothing to worry about" I said. This... Seemed to make him more agitated. "How are you gonna feel when we lose a wing at 3600ft?! You know how many accidents these things have been involved in?!" As Carlos went on with his rant, the PA blared to life. "Knight Squadron, please report to the briefing room immediately."

"Oh _God_ , what is it now?!"


	7. Chapter 7: Broken Arrow

_"To err is human. However, an AI cannot make errors. Even with the most advanced AI, the restrictions in place to prevent it from going rogue make it vulnerable." ~ Prof. Henrik Rauser on the feasibility of Artificial Intelligence, 1996._

* * *

 _Chapter 7: Broken Arrow_

* * *

[Spring Sea]  
[Usea]  
[1456 hours]  
[4/27/2024]

"We are in a dire situation. The Osean Military has launched a volley of five cruise missiles at five key targets: The ISAF FOB at the site of Stonehenge, Rigley Air Base, Expo City, this air base, and most disturbingly - North Point. While they resemble Tomahawk cruise missiles, we believe at least three of the missiles are 'Broken Arrow', using unconventional warheads to achieve maximum destructive power. The missiles were launched over the Razgriz Straits, and we believe they will be passing over the Spring Sea, near Lighthouse. Intercept these missiles, and destroy them before they can enter our airspace. For this mission, you will each be given specialized interceptor aircraft. Utilize them to the fullest to achieve your goal. Dismissed."

We hurriedly rushed to the hangar, where our aircraft awaited. Inside, the aircraft we had been given waited. Three F/A-24 Apalis interceptors, each colored ISAF Blue. The three of us quickly scrambled into the aircraft, and made our way to the main runway. "Knights 1-4, you have been given priority for takeoff. Scramble, scramble, scramble." I watched Gene's fighter leave the runway first, followed by Carlos, and then myself. Once airborne, we quickly got in our formation, and awaited SkyEye to relay our orders for the mission. "SkyEye here. Further analysis of the missiles confirmed they are all Broken Arrow. Do _not_ get within machine gun range, rely on your missiles for this mission. Destroy the missiles before they get past Lighthouse. Knight Squadron, engage."

"Gene, what do you think these missiles look like?" I asked, As Carlos alerted us to the missiles presence. "Ten miles and closing! What the... They're huge!" I looked ahead, and my mouth fell agape. The missiles we were tasked with destroying were much larger than the standard cruise missile, at least the size of a B-52. "SkyEye, what are these?! I thought we were shooting down missiles, not bombers!" After about a minute, SkyEye's voice returned to the radio. "Knight Squadron, your best bet at destroying them is to get behind them, and fire missiles directly into the boosters. Go! Go!" With full thrust applied, we went after two missiles between the three of us. Seemingly, I had drawn the short straw, as I behind the two largest missiles.

"Knight 4, Fox 3, Fox 3!" I said, watching as four XMAAs streaked away. I remembered the briefing, how these missiles were "broken arrows", and quickly banked hard left. Even over the sound of the Apalis engines, I could hear an explosion unlike any other. "Missile 4 and 5 destroyed! Those were likely headed to Expo City and North Point." I heard SkyEye declare over the radio. While I couldn't see it, I heard Gene and Carlos declare over the radio that the rest of the missiles had been destroyed. For now, the skies over Erusea were safe. "Multiple fighters coming in at Mach 2. It's Aquila Squadron." I watched the five-plane formation of Aquila Squadron get within view, and let out a sigh of relief. "Aquila Squadron, are we glad to see you. This is Knight 1, of the Belkan Air For-"

"We know who you are, Knight Squadron. I must say, you do well to uphold the Belkan Air Force's reputation. How many missiles did you three destroy?" The flight lead of Aquila Squadron asked Gene. When I examined his aircraft, it looked similar, but not identical to the Su-37 Flanker-F's of his wingmen. I had seen his craft at the airshow I had gone to as a teenager, all those years ago. It was an Su-55 Terminator II, though I knew it simply as the Terminator. "We destroyed five. What brings the illustrious Yellow Squadron here?" Gene asked, wondering why the KEAF would send Aquila Squadron after the missiles which threatened its allies had been destroyed. "We were flying escort for the Royal Family's A380 when we saw the explosions. You three alright?"

"Affirmative. Knight Squadron is in one piece." Gene replied, flying alongside the Su-55. "Heads up. incoming from... Wait, this can't be right... Incoming from Twinkle Islands. Something big just showed up on radar, and it's headed in your direction. Knight and Aquila aircraft, vacate airspace immediately!" For once, SkyEye's voice seemed to be filled with desperation. Aquila Squadron broke left, while Gene, Carlos and myself applied full thrust and continued on our Eastern vector, back to Dakota Hill. "Impact in 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1! Hold on to something!" I could see what looked like a missile, similar to the ones we had just destroyed, impact the surface of the water, followed by a loud explosion, and an intense, blinding white light. Our aircraft shook violently, but we managed to stay airborne.

"SkyEye! SkyEye, are you there?! What the hell was that?!" I asked. Nothing but static. "SkyEye, I repeat: What the _hell_ was that?!" After two agonizing minutes, we heard SkyEye's voice grace our radios, intermixed with static. "Knight Squadron, return to base for debriefing..."

* * *

 _"Megafloat. The oceanic future of Mankind. Coming 2039." ~ Advertisement for the Megafloat offshore city, 2012  
_

* * *

[Dakota Hill Air Base]  
[East Erusea]  
[1700 hours]  
[4/27/2024]

"We have witnessed actions today that we had previously thought could never be repeated. The Osean superweapon is already combat operational, and poses a very real threat to the safety of everyone in its path. Our sources in Estovakia have confirmed its designation to be O.F.S Razgriz, and that is a Mobile Air Base, in Layman's terms, a flying aircraft carrier. After the fifth and final missile was destroyed during your mission, an ICBM was launched from the Spiridus, an Estovakian Heavy Command Cruiser near the Twinkle Islands. This missile was carrying a nuclear warhead, and was detonated in the Spring Sea. Not since the Belkan War have atomic weapons been used so brazenly. Your reconnaissance mission against the MAB has been cancelled, and all operations have been suspended until further notice. Dismissed."

Nuclear weapons. Why would the Oseans be so eager to using the same weapons of mass destruction that they had fought so hard to prevent the use of? Then I remembered - the Osea that had declared war wasn't the same Osea of my youth, and that times had changed. "I can't believe the Oseans and Estovakians would do something like this. Using nukes during a conflict they aren't even involved with." I said, watching as Carlos scoffed. "You must be blind if you can't believe that, Keenan. Why _wouldn't_ Osea use nukes on three fighters who just so happen to have the same skills as the ones who royally fucked up two of _their_ squadrons in less than a month?" I sighed. Regardless, the fact that we managed to survive an atomic blast had gotten us attention. Whether it was good or not, we couldn't tell.

While Gene and Carlos went to the mess hall, I made my way across the base to Mobius 1's hangar. Unlike the other hangars, including ours, which had just our squadron insignia on the outside wall, that which belonged to Mobius 1 had his squadron insignia, and his kill count. Truly, it was an impressive number that even I failed to count. Seeing that the hangar doors were open, I entered the expansive structure. Parked in the middle was the fighter belonging to the Ace. I approached it carefully, and when I got close, I ran a hand along its wingtip. Compared to even the Apalis' we had been flying earlier that day, the YF-22D seemed almost alien. Yes, it had general lines in common with the F-22A that preceded it, but it was... Different. Instead of a glass canopy, the bear metal of a COFFIN took its place.

"Hey!" I heard a voice call out. I turned to face the source, only to find Mobius 1, confined to his wheelchair. "M-Mobius 1, sir." I said, saluting. "It's good to see you." I could hear the Ace chuckle softly. "Please, please, just call me Alex. So, you like the fighter, eh?" He asked, and I nodded. "It's certainly... Different, sir. How come you fly this instead of a Raptor?" "Well, this is gonna sound crazy, but... I was shot down in... '07, over Belka. Some nationalist probably thought I was gonna attack, and well... That's pretty much what happened. Been stuck to this chair ever since." I was amazed, not by his story, but how he was able to fly so effectively despite being paralyzed. "So... How are you able to pilot your craft, even though you're paralyzed?"

"See the canopy? It isn't glass. My fighter's got what's called a COFFIN - Connection For Flight Interface." As Mobi- Er, Alex, told me about his fighter, I couldn't help but think back to that day at the airshow, all those years ago, gaze fixed to the Su-37. In my mind, I had to know - What was it like, facing off against Yellow 13 over Farbanti? As I went to speak, I hesitated for a second. What if it were a sore spot in Alex's mind, what if he didn't remember? I went against what was my better judgement and asked away. "What was your final encounter with Yellow 13 like? Over Farbanti?" I could see Alex's eyes light up a bit. "Yellow 13? That's a name I haven't heard in a long, long time. I was never able to meet him personally, but what I learned about him, after the War, was that he was a respectful pilot, and a damn good one, too."

As he continued with telling me about Farbanti, and the 2003 War in general, two of his assistants, with the Mobius Squadron patch on their jacket sleeves, entered the hangar. "Mobius 1, sir, you're being sent on an emergency sortie. An Air Ixiom AN-225 has been attacked over Amber, and the crew has requested ISAF support." One of the people, a woman, said. Alex, Mobius 1, just nodded. "I'd like to send him up with me, as a wingman." After hearing this, I was... Ecstatic, to say the least. "I would be honored to fly alongside the Ribbon Fighter himself." I said, giving the two officers a salute. "Excellent. Report to the briefing room for your orders." An air of amazement in my mind, I proceeded to the briefing room.

"Seeing as this is an emergency sortie, we will keep this brief. An Air Ixiom AN-225, one of only five in existence, has been attacked by FES fighters over Los Canas. We don't know what cargo the plane is carrying, but we believe it to be of importance to FES, if they're willing to pursue it over ISAF airspace. Flying as Mobius 1's Number Two, it will be your mission to shoot down the pursuing fighters, who we believe are Vampir Squadron. Be warned, they fly advanced fighters, and their leader was involved in the theft of an Erusian Type-156 Terminator. To compensate for this, we have approved you for usage of an F-27A Scarface, which in turn has been equipped with 2 Quick Air-To-Air Missiles, which should assist in the shooting down of Vampir Squadron. Dismissed."


	8. Chapter 8: Wounded Bird

_"The Eagle spreads its wings. In the air, it is elegant, mysterious. Inspiring, yet vicious. An ace pilot is much the same." ~ Erusian ace Jonas Alucard, callsign Yellow 13, Sky Kid Pub and Restaurant, 2004_

* * *

 _Chapter 8: Wounded Bird_

* * *

[Los Canas]  
[Central Usea]  
[0200 hours]  
[4/28/2024]  
[Alt: 22000ft]

"SkyEye here. Mobius 1, the Air Ixiom An-225 should be within visual shortly, look for the strobe lights. Knight 4, keep Mobius 1 covered while he escorts the transport to Expo International Airport. Enemy fighters on vector 298. Engage."

"Knight 4, standing by." I said, staying in formation with Mobius 1. As I looked around, I couldn't see... Anything. It was pitch black, and I would need to rely on my instruments to keep myself from crashing. When I looked to the left, I could see the blinking cockpit lights on the YF-22D, along with those of the An-225. When I looked to the right, I could see a formation of lights heading towards us. I broke off to engage, arming the Quick Air-To-Air missiles my craft had been equipped with. "Attention unidentified aircraft. This is Knight 4, of the Independent State Allied Air Force. Divert course, or you will be shot down." After making my proclamation, I got no response. "I repeat - Divert your course, or you _will_ be shot down!" Again, no response. I was ready to fire missiles when SkyEye's voice came over the radio.

"Hold fire, Knight 4. That's Raptor 1. Don't know what he's doing out here, though..." For a moment, I was relieved. That relief, would be short lived. "Don't you idiots realize? There's more to this war than meets the eye. Us Raptors have been flying in the shadow of Mobius Squad for far too long. What's on that plane is more important than you'll ever know, _Knight_. All aircraft, attack at once! Shoot down the Grim Reaper!" I watched in awe as the lights of multiple aircraft blinked on at once, and most of Raptor Flight, comprised of F-23A and F-23B's, turned to engage me. "Knight 4, keep those fighters away from the transport." Mobius 1 said to me. Against my better judgment, I almost happily obliged. I dodged and weaved through missile fire, an act that seemed to anger one particular pilot.

"Argh! Stay still, you Belkan bastard!" It was Raptor 3, the same pilot who had effectively mocked Carlos, Gene and myself during our training flight over Newfield Island, where I had managed to shoot down Mobius 1. "These skies belong to Erusians! Not ISAF, not the 'Royal Family', and definitely not Belkans!" Those words seemed to anger me most of all. Through gritted teeth, I spoke. "I am not Belkan... I'm Aurelian!" "Belkan, Aurelian, it's all the same! You don't belong in these skies! You're all just a bunch of rejects who think they're all superior just because they lost a war 30 fucking years ago. A war _they_ started. Guess what? You're _not_. One day, the flag of Osea will fly from the Belkan capital, and there isn't _shit_ you can do about it. That's just the way of life - you win some, and you lose some. Be it a city, a home, or a brother."

"What the-" I said, before being cut off by Raptor 3. "Don't think we haven't read your dossier, _Keenan Lotheric_. We know you had a brother who was killed a couple years ago. That's why you joined the Air Force, isn't it? Revenge. How cliche can you get?" "Knight 4... Fox 3." I said, pressing the fire button for the 2QAAMs my craft had been equipped with. I watched the flame from the missile exhaust, and then watched the brilliant orange fireball that was Raptor 3 and Raptor 5. "Splash two bandits." I said, as I turned to engage the final two Raptor aircraft that were attacking the transport. As I got behind them, I waited for missile lock. "Knight 4, Fox 3!" I announced, two missiles streaking from my craft, and destroying the opposing fighters. Before I was able to confirm, a strange voice came over the radio.

"H-hello? Are they gone? Are the fighters gone?" The voice, distinctly male, asked. "Erusian transport, I can confirm, the fighters are down. Who am I speaking to?" I asked, and waited for my answer. "This... This is Prince Elijah, of the Erusian Royal Family. Is this Mobius 1?" He asked. I shook my head before giving a response. "No. My callsign is Knight 4, of the Belkan Air Force's 7th Air Division, 22nd Tactical Fighter Squadron." I replied, as Mobius 1 had gotten in formation with me. "Mobius 1, Knight 4, stick with the An-225 until the rendezvous point over Chopinburg. There, Scarface Squadron will escort them the rest of the way to North Point. It's advised you two should land at Scion Air Base to rearm and refuel. SkyEye, out." Following SkyEye's orders, we landed at Scion Air Base.

Scion was a small base, even smaller than Valais, but because that, it seemed... Larger, in a sense. An extension of home, I guess one could say. There were a few hangars, and the majority of craft seemed to be VTOL aircraft, Harriers, Ospreys and so on. The next day, Mobius 1 and myself would begin our return flight to Dakota Hill.

* * *

 _"San Salvacion has fallen to the increasing pressure from the Erusian invasion, and the small capital city has been effectively cut off from the rest of the world. The nation's government was dissolved on Thursday, with the Erusean Supreme Commander taking over, and calling the victory a 'Landmark occasion for Erusea.'" ~ OBC news report on the Erusia-ISAF War, 2004_

* * *

[Dakota Hill Air Base]  
[East Erusea]  
[4/30/2024]  
[1000 hours]

"Mobius 1, Knight 4. Welcome back. We've analyzed your flight data, from the impromptu escort mission regarding an Air Ixiom An-225. The aircraft, bound for North Point, was carrying the Erusian Royal Family, who has requested diplomatic immunity in the country, and they extend their gratitude towards your actions. That being said, we have an urgent message from the Belkan Air Force, regarding Knight Squadron's service with ISAF: "We request that the 7th Air Division, 22nd Tactical Fighter Squadron be returned to Ustio immediately. The situation in Belka has worsened." As such, at 1450, you three will be returning to Ustio. Thank you for your service, Knight Squadron. Dismissed."

At last, we would be returning home, but under what circumstances? I wondered this for the rest of the day, even as I got suited up for the return flight. "Hey Gene? Why are we being sent back so soon?" I asked, and Gene sighed. "Keenan... I don't know how to say this, but... Dinsmark was attacked the other day, by the Oseans. That's why we're being sent back. They need us." Instantly, my mind was filled with anger, rage, all sorts of emotions even I didn't know I could experience. "Very well... Let's show those _bastards_ what happens when you stir a wasp's nest." I said, grabbing my helmet. We proceeded to the hangar, where we each had been given unique aircraft. Gene and Carlos had been given an F-22A and A-10, stripped to bare metal, just like our MiGs. I, meanwhile, was given the aircraft I had flown last - the Scarface.

Unlike Gene and Carlos, the aircraft was grey, like a gun's barrel, with the ISAF arrowhead insignia on the vertical stabilizer. I climbed in the cockpit and put my helmet on. "Knight Squadron, proceed to Runway 1 and await clearance to takeoff." The Air Traffic Controller said, as we taxied to the runway. "Hey Keenan?" Carlos asked, sighing softly. "Let's teach those Oseans a lesson they won't soon forget, eh?" I smirked, but otherwise remained stoic. "Yeah. Let's." I replied, waiting for clearance. After it was granted, I watched Gene, and then Carlos, takeoff. I followed them shortly, and quickly got into formation with them. The moment we landed back at Valais, after making a brief stop at Cape Aubrey to refuel, the atmosphere of the base had completely changed.

The War had escalated alarmingly quickly, the extent of which we wouldn't know until we were briefed for our next mission. We stepped into the familiar halls of Valais, where it was clear we held a sort of... Aura around us. Deep, in the blackest matter of my brain, I feared for my mother's life. She was all I had left, after the murder of my brother, and death of my father and step-father. As we stepped into the briefing room, our aging Base Commander gave a much deserved smile. "Knight Squadron, it's good to have you back." He said, as Gene, Carlos and myself all saluted. "We apologize for ending your service with ISAF abruptly, but we have a grave situation. Dinsmark, the capital of Belka, was attacked by Osean forces. We don't know exactly from _where_ , but we have an idea."

As he said this, the screen behind him flicked over to a schematic, of what appeared to be a large aircraft carrier. "This... This is OFS Razgriz, a Mobile Air Base. It is touted by the Oseans as being the largest, most advanced warship to ever exist. It measures two thousand, five hundred and eighty-six feet long, and was designed with a sister ship, the Estovakian-built OFS Spiridus. They are both among the largest aircraft ever built, and are claimed by their respective countries as being invincible to enemy attack." As I watched the screen, depictions of various aircraft were seen being shot down by the intense AA fire from the Razgriz. "We have run simulations regarding various attack patterns. The only attack pattern that has succeeded so far is having one aircraft fly _through_ the Razgriz, and two fly support."

While we watched, our Commander ended the presentation. "It should be noted, however, that we do not intend for this to be our front-line offensive against the Razgriz. For now, our main target is the Spiridus. The Spiridus has the same overall design of the Razgriz, but with one fatal flaw. As the Spiridus is meant to be deployed alongside the Razgriz, it has very limited defensive capabilities, relying on Shock Wave-type missiles, and the sole fighter squadron tasked with defending the immense craft. To destroy the Spiridus, you will have to fly _through_ the warship a minimum of three times, destroying sensitive equipment with each pass. This will damage its already meager defensive grid, leaving the engines open for attack. Captain Ortega, we understand you prefer flying CAS aircraft, but we will request you fly standard a standard fighter for this mission. The attack will take place on the second of June. Dismissed."

This was it. The end of the war was in sight, and we would be able to return to our families. As we left the briefing room, I looked to Gene, who seemed... Concerned, about our forthcoming mission. "Something wrong, Gene?" I asked, as he gave a heavy sigh. "Keenan, Carlos, I don't think we're gonna make it to the end of this damn war. I think we're being sent on a suicide mission, just for shits and giggles." He sighed again, and looked to the ground. "Out of everyone I've ever flown with, you two are the best damn pilots I've ever seen, and..." "And what?" I asked, as he looked back at us, a happy, yet... Remorseful expression on his face. "And... I'd say you two are my friends." I smiled, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You too, buddy. You too." I said, and looked to the setting sun.

"We truly are Belkan knights, aren't we?"


End file.
